


So Long, Farewell (I Don't Want to Say Goodbye)

by cup_of_comfort



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, M/M, kind of confused what to tag this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-29 05:03:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cup_of_comfort/pseuds/cup_of_comfort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-Same world, different endings...-</p><p>For once in his life, Magnus wishes that he could retrieve what once was his once more, just to give him a second chance, just to hold him and kiss him and, at least, say goodbye properly to him. When he creates a Portal for Clary and Jace to pass through, the energy he pours into making the Portal has created another path for him – to where his heart desire speaks; <i>I want to see Alexander once more.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the sky bled red when it cried (so did a wounded heart when it spoke its desire)

**Author's Note:**

> A month ago, I made a promise to myself and my best friend that when CoHF had come out; if the dead person rumoured turned out to be Alec, I’d post this. But this fic was too impatient to wait for a year (and I’ve read a few theories about who will die, and why they will die in various discussions), so I decided to post this. I usually didn’t write something out of canon before it was completed (believe me, as much as I don’t want to believe that cruel snippet the duo Cassandra devils provided for us) but this was just too tempting not to write. Enjoy, and critiques and comments are always lovely!

The funerals had been a blur to the Shadowhunters and most of the Downworlders.

Magnus didn’t even remember most of it. The werewolves didn’t bury their dead, and vampires simply turned to ashes when they were killed. Those who stayed behind in Idris were mostly busy to sort the aftermath mess with the Clave. Several Downworlders, like Simon—the Daylighter—and Luke were present because of their relationship to their past life. Catarina Loss was present because Magnus was there, all alone, while the others had somebody beside them.

The funerals were quiet and quick, held personally restricted to family members. The graveyard had been visited by several families; the Penhallows, the Truebloods, the Starkweathers, the Herondales (Amatis was a Herondale, Luke had insisted, when they wanted to bury her in the Graymarks), and the Lightwoods was the last.

Isabelle and Maryse didn’t even bother to hide their sorrow when Alec’s casket was lowered into the ground, next to Max’s freshly built grave. Jace was burying his face on Clary’s shoulder, obviously trying hard not to cry but failing miserably. And while Robert kept his face hidden by staring at his shoes, Magnus could witness the sadness shone in the green eyes. Perhaps his children had judged him too harsh, but Magnus truly believe that Robert did care for his family.

In fact, he wouldn’t be standing at the Lightwoods cemetery if it wasn’t because of Robert. He had succeeded in convincing the Clave that Magnus had the rights to attend the funeral together with the family; as was Clary. Magnus nearly stopped him, but he thought that it would be rude to reject the offer... since he was there when Alec died.

It was still as clear as yesterday. He was there, holding Alec’s battered body as the dark-haired boy trembled in pain, his blue eyes unfocused and bleary. One of the Dark Shadownhunters had slashed Alec across the back with a demonic blade, which nature was still unknown at that time, when he leapt to cover for the exhausted Magnus. Magnus still had the energy to throw a deathly spark at him before dragging Alec away from the battlefield to a safe spot, surrounded by dead bodies of both sides. He had tried to stop the bleedings, but he was too drained to do it properly, so instead he held Alec’s hand in his own and did what Alec had always did for him—giving him his strength.

“Magnus,” Alec’s breath hitched as he attempted to speak. “Hey... It’s ironic, isn’t it?” he had chuckled lightly, but the movement sent a jolt through Alec’s body and he coughed out blood. Magnus didn’t even remember how to panic. He only had one thing in his mind at that time; to keep Alec conscious until they could get some medical attention.

“What do you mean?” he whispered.

Alec smiled, his bloodied lips trembled minutely. “A-all that effort to convince you I wasn’t in love with you,” he exhaled shakily, “and here I am, dying in your arms.”

 _No, no no no; Alec was still young, too young_. “You’re not going to die,” Magnus told him. “I’m keeping you alive. You’ll be fine. Hang on, Alexander. Please.”

Alec’s eyelids were sliding close, his breath shallower and slower. “Perhaps... I never said it to you,” he whispered. A tear slid down his cheek. “But you must know... I l-love you so much...”

Magnus shook his head frantically as he tightened his grip on Alec’s body, growing more and more desperate. “No more talking, Alexander. Save your strength,” he said sternly.

But Alec kept going. “My witchlight... even knows. I searched the books... after coming back from the s-subway,” he coughed out more blood. Magnus wiped it with his free hand, and felt that Alec was getting colder. “They... they only shone in that manner... in the hands of their b-beloved,” the young Nephilim smiled, squeezing his fingers lightly.

“ _I love you._ ”

For a moment Magnus thought that everything’s going to be alright—until Alec finally went still in his arms, his pretty blue eyes empty and his chest no longer rose and fell; and the world suddenly went dark and cold on Magnus.

He sat there, holding Alec’s dead body close even after Clary and Isabelle ran close, clothes stained with blood and ichor and visible cuts and wounds on their exposed skin, Jace following soon after. Alec’s hand was still warm, Magnus thought absentmindedly, as Jace and Isabelle and Clary argued about something.

Instead, Magnus brushed Alec’s eyelids close and tuned out his surroundings as he held his beloved close.

“I love you too,” he whispered; perhaps a tad bit too late.

-

It was over too soon.

Isabelle had locked herself inside her room and refused to come out, so Maryse put a tray of food in front of her room every morning and evening. At least Isabelle still touched his food. Jace, however, was beyond repair if not because of Clary. When Maryse had come to the Garroway’s new apartment telling that Jace had literally ‘destroyed the Institute’s training room’, Clary had come a few times on particularly bad nights and patiently waited for him to finish unleashing his anger so badly to a training dummy it was beyond recognisable, before coaxing him gently to her place and spent a few nights, feeding him in the process. Simon checked on Isabelle periodically when Clary came to the Institute as well, and while Maryse and Robert still frowned upon him, Simon knew that they welcomed his visits if those meant Isabelle’s well-being.

All Alec remains that Magnus had were all in his memories only. Alec had taken most of his belongings when Magnus broke up with him, not leaving a single thing, even a few things that either Magnus got for him or they got together. Magnus found them stashed in a locked chest under Alec’s bed when Maryse gave him permission to search Alec’s room, but they couldn’t replace what had been gone.

For the first time in his 800 years life span, Magnus wept for a lost lover.

But the time went by. Isabelle and Jace healed and coped, soon back to Shadowhunting and training, and although the gaping wound was still there, they were slowly recuperating with the help of their significant others. Even Maryse and Robert were getting support from Jocelyn and Luke, who helped them reconcile and get back to their normal, Shadowhunting life. Slowly but surely, everybody forgot the pain, and their life went on.

It wasn’t the same with Magnus, though. Camille and Ragnor had been dead, and although Catarina dropped in a few times to check on him occasionally, she was a busy woman, and that wasn’t enough to fill the gap in Magnus’s life.

It felt like a big chunk of his life was torn out so suddenly and tossed to nowhere to find again. Maybe he was the one who broke up with Alec, but he still loved him with all his heart; even more than when he loved Camille.

As the time went on, Magnus thought he would eventually get over it... Until three years later he had discovered that no, he actually wasn’t.

-

“Magnus, are you okay?”

When Clary looked at him, Magnus always felt like she could see through him. He shook his head and waved her away. “I’m fine, Clary. Why don’t you join Jace over there? I need some time to complete the Portal.”

Today marked three years of Alec’s death.

The original Lightwoods had been welcomed back to Idris, with Robert as the new Inquisitor. Jace opted to stay with Clary after he turned eighteen, and now they were living together in a small apartment in New York, near the Institute. Now that the Lightwoods had left New York, the Institute was run by Jocelyn and Luke Garroway.

Magnus himself moved to Los Angeles, across the country, where he hoped he could find a new life and left his old one in Brooklyn—or New York—and met new people. The _parabatai_ Emma Carstairs and Julian Blackthorn really reminded him of Alec and Jace in some sort of strange ways; and it kept Alec preserved in his memory, unforgettable and painful in ways Magnus never experienced before.

Jace and Clary had come all the way from New York to request his service for a Portal to Alicante. They were going to visit the Lightwoods grave and do the annual grave cleaning, and since Clary had yet to master her Portal making, they had Magnus to do it. Clary always asked him to join them, but after the first year—when every Nephilim that were present in the graveyard were staring at him with unwelcoming eyes—Magnus never came again.

Besides, it saved him from being reminded by a broken heart.

“The Portal is ready,” Magnus announced, and Jace and Clary came close.

“You sure you don’t want to come, warlock?” Jace glanced at him with his golden eyes, unwavering, but they held a tint of sympathy in them.

Magnus shook his head. “I already told Robert Lightwood no when he offered.”

Jace took Clary’s hand in his own and raised an eyebrow, as if asking ‘ _He asked you himself?_ ’, but then he realised and then nodded lightly. “I see. Take care, Bane.”

Magnus nodded back as Clary waved her free hand slightly to Magnus. “I will give him your message, Magnus. Take care.”

And then they vanished inside the Portal.

-

They were gone, Magnus thought. _I should close the Portal_.

He looked at the smooth, blue surface of the Portal and touched it lightly. The surface rippled under the tip of his finger, and he retreated lightly.

_What am I thinking?_

Magnus shook his head to clear his thoughts, and quickly stepped backwards from the Portal. But when his hand waved to dispel the Portal, it unconsciously touched the Portal’s surface again.

[ _The Portal;_ ], Magnus suddenly remembered one of the spells written in the basic warlocks lessons, [ _summoning Portals will bring you to wherever you wish to go as long as the image is clear in your head......_ ]

Again, the watery Portal surface rippled under the tip of his finger, but instead of retreating, he threaded deeper into the surface, and slowly stepped into it, with a clear image of a certain Shadowhunter... and a wish he should never make.

“Please,” he whispered hoarsely. “Let me see Alexander. I want to see him once more.”

And with a splash, he vanished into the Portal.

-

Magnus coughed out the water as he landed harshly on the rough pavement, with the Portal closing behind him as soon as he got out. He didn’t even remember stepping into it; and where was he now? He looked around and was unsurprised to see the familiar surroundings he couldn’t even get out of his mind for the past three years.

The Institute was perhaps only a mile away ahead of him. The sun had started to set, leaving a beautiful, orange tint on the background. It made his chest hurt—he used to sit beside Alexander in the Central Park, in a secluded spot Alec had found accidentally after chasing a demon down to see the sun set together, sometimes even only to have a private time with him.

He stood up from the pavement and tapped lightly at his skinny jeans to remove the dirt when suddenly he heard a thump behind him. He whipped around fast, expecting it to be a demon or a mundane passing by, but what he saw made him stop almost instantly.

The pool of brilliant blue eyes that stared back at him were as brilliant as he remembered; just this morning, when he received a call from Jace that he would fly over from New York to Los Angeles to request a Portal to Alicante. But while the brilliant blues he remembered this morning were full of raw love and adoration, pure honesty, and shyness, those brilliant blues were widened with horror, fear, and disbelief; but the love and longing pouring from them were unmistakable.

“Magnus,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and nearly unrecognisable, but oh, that was _his_ voice, the voice Magnus had missed so much. “Magnus, is that really _you_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Updates will be very late, but I'll try my best to maintain long chapters to make up for the update gap.


	2. filling the gaps like sands in stones (because i just did not realise i miss you that much)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I usually didn’t update this fast, so give your thanks not to me, but to a junior whom my friend and I corrupted (ahahah) into TMI and Malec! I was unsatisfied with this chapter though... I hope I’m not doing so bad. Thoughts?

Magnus felt like he couldn’t breathe.

All of the feelings bundling up and bubbling to the surface— _sadnesslongingangerlove **confusion**_ —were overwhelming he had to shut his eyes tight as a headache started to build. Did his eyes trick him? Was he just collapsed in his living room in Los Angeles; a dream too cruel to have, that would vanish as soon as he blinked his eyes open? “

“Magnus...” And there was the voice again. Magnus shook his head a few times and opened his eyes, expecting himself seeing his exquisite leather sofa of lying on his new rug; but no, the pair of familiar blue eyes were still staring at him, now wet with unshed tears.

“Alexander – Alec...” Magnus called shakily and reached forward as he walked unsteadily, too afraid that if he touched his beloved, everything would blur out and reality set in. But Alec was also reaching for him, and when shaky hands touched him, the tears finally fell.

Alec sobbed as he ignored his fallen groceries and stretched his hands around Magnus— _oh, how he had missed the Shadowhunter’s warmth_ —and hugged him tight, like if he let go, Magnus would slip out from his grasp. “I... I’m not dreaming, am I? You’re... you’re...”

Magnus hugged the figure back (and he couldn’t help noticing how Alec had gotten way too thin—or was it because he had forgotten how Alec felt and look like?) and stroked his dark hair slowly. “If you’re dreaming, then I must be, too,” he said slowly, simply savouring the feeling of Alec back in his arms.

They stayed at each other’s arms for a moment before separating, with Magnus’s shoulder wet and Alec’s eyes red from the tears. “I... apologise for ruining your shirt,” he stuttered and blushed. “I... don’t mean to cry like that, but...”

Magnus shook his head, putting a finger on his lips to silence him. “There’s nothing to apologise for, Alec,” he said gently. “But first, perhaps we should talk...”

-

Alec’s apartment was not far from the Institute; just a small, studio apartment five minutes’ walk from where they met. The stairs were rickety and they creaked under Magnus’s shoes, but Alec assured him that they were fine enough to be walked on, so Magnus decided to trust him. The apartment was nearly bare, consisted of only a small single bed, a kitchen set and a foldable table, a single chair placed neatly just beside the counter. Instead of a TV and a big, nice sofa Magnus used to have on his own home in the living room, two bookshelves filled full and an armchair replaced them, with a small low table in the middle. They were nothing fancy, but the décor made Magnus felt homey.

Alec gestured Magnus to sit on the armchair and lowered the table in the kitchen, putting the ruined groceries on it before walking towards the kitchen and rummaging the shelf for some tea. The smell of the brew was always the same – _chai_ tea, like _his_ Alec used to drink – and it reminded Magnus of how devoid his new home without the smell of tea or Alec’s scent inside. This apartment was all so Alec-themed; it even smelled of Alec’s bath soap and shampoo, and the memory itself was almost enough to make Magnus wanted to cry.

He winced when he saw the ruined groceries. “I’m sorry for ruining your groceries, Alec,” he said. After all, it was his appearance that made Alec dropped it. Magnus could see the canned food squished in several places, and his cheese and bread all mushy.

Alec shook his head. “It’s fine. I will go back and get some new one tomorrow,” he said, returning to the living room with two steaming cups of _chai_ tea. He put the cups on the table and dragged the dining chair to the living room, sitting across Magnus.

They sat in the silence once again for a while, sipping their tea and was deep in their own thoughts before Alec broke it. “Magnus... Why are you here in the first place?”

Magnus looked up from his tea, surprised by the question. “Why... am I here?”

Alec’s face looked grim. “You shouldn’t be here in the first place anyway,” he said, putting his cup perhaps a little bit too harshly on the saucer. Magnus winced at the sharp clink of the china.

“The only explanation I can offer to you for now,” Magnus said, “is that I was... not _your_ Magnus.”

“Not my – _what_?”

“As you said, I shouldn’t be here in the first place... because _you_ are supposed to be _dead_.” Magnus explained. Alec’s expression changed, but he didn’t say anything. “I was... creating a Portal for Clary and Jace. It should end up in Alicante, but when I entered... instead I found myself back in York.”

Alec scrunched up his eyebrows. “If I’m supposed to be dead in... whatever dimension or world you are...” he sounded perhaps a little bit strange, “perhaps things had been different.” He looked at his cup grimly. “May I ask you something?”

Magnus nodded slowly.

“Who... who broke us up?”

Magnus didn’t even have the chance to be surprised. “I did,” he answered truthfully. If the two worlds ran parallel, it wouldn’t be a surprise that some of the elements stayed the same. “Who did in here?”

“I did,” Alec said, sounding a bit dejected.

“Why?”

Alec bit his lower lips nervously. “You... I mean, Magnus... He met with Camille in secret after freeing her from the Clave,” his fists clenched tightly on his knees. “And he didn’t tell me. He didn’t trust me enough for keeping my mouth shut about his secrets. He was afraid I’d give him and Camille to the Clave.”

Magnus didn’t interfere as Alec kept rambling. “That bastard... always acts and never thinks. You’d think that a warlock that old will have a little more brain to think with... But perhaps Isabelle was right. He loves me too much to even stop to think. Loved,” he corrected hastily. Alec’s voice began to tremble, and he buried his face on his palm, trying so hard not to shed tears.

He looked very upset, so Magnus didn’t push him further. When Alec finally sobbed silently, Magnus moved from his seat and kneeled in front of Alec, hugging the black-haired Nephilim he loved tight as he silently rubbed comforting circles on the boy’s back. After all, he had figured out what happened pretty much by himself by now.

The same thing that happened to his Alec was probably happening to the Magnus from this world.

“I miss you,” Alec whispered, sad and broken. “I miss you so much.”

Magnus closed his eyes. “Me too, Alexander.” His hold got tighter. “Me too.”

-

The dinner was spent in silence with Chinese take-outs, side-by-side in Alec’s living room. Alec’s lemon chicken was only half-eaten when he spoke, so small Magnus nearly couldn’t catch his words.

“Tell me about yourself.”

Magnus turned from his fried rice in confusion. “I bet nothing much is different from your Magnus here.”

Alec bit his lips again. “No, I mean... for the last three years. What did you do?” he sounded reluctant, but perhaps his curiosity beat his nervousness. “How is Chairman Meow?”

Magnus put down the container, suddenly losing his appetite. “I... moved to Los Angeles,” he explained. “Got a new apartment. Chairman Meow is... well, I can’t say he’s happy, because you... I mean, Alec used to pet him twice a day and never forgot to give him food.” Magnus chuckled bitterly. “Chairman never likes anyone better than him.”

“Do you still change your interior every two days?” The dark-haired Nephilim’s lips crooked into a small smile.

“Come to think of it... No, I haven’t, actually. Not in three weeks. I still quite like the leather sofa and the fluffy rug,” Magnus said. For once, a memory of his old life didn’t hurt as much when he remembered it before. Alec used to scold him for changing wall paints and furniture every two days, so Magnus tried his best to lengthen the change to two or four weeks. The amount of time he had spent with Alec in his home had become a habit even after he moved. Perhaps the saying ‘old habits die hard’ was still so much true.

When remembering started to hurt, Magnus tried to change the topic. “How about you?” he asked back. “What did you do? Are you still Shadowhunting?”

Magnus couldn’t miss the slight twitch of Alec’s fingers, and his smile changed into a bitter smile. “I guess it’s fair since I’ve asked you a question,” he huffed. He put the container on the table and exhaled slowly. “My family... had gone back to Idris. Father has accepted the position as the Inquisitor,” he explained. For the first time since he got here, Magnus noticed that Alec looked far sadder and more solemn from what Magnus had imagined a twenty-one year old Alec would look like. “So naturally, Mother and Max followed him.”

“...Max?” Magnus echoed, confused. “Where is Isabelle? What happened to her?”

Alec’s expression went sad. “She’s... in a coma in a hospital in Idris,” he said. “When Jona—I mean, Sebastian—attacked Alicante, he intended to kill Max, but Isabelle got in his way...”

Magnus held a finger on Alec’s lips, a gesture asking him to say no more. “You don’t have to remember the things you don’t want to remember,” he whispered. “But you still haven’t answered my question,” he said. “I was asking about _you_. And the Alec I know—knew—wouldn’t stop Shadowhunting even with your family away, or Isabelle hurt. What happened?”

Alec looked at him in the eyes. “Do you really want to know?”

When Magnus nodded, Alec stood up slowly and walked away from him, stopping a few steps away from Magnus and gestured him to stay put.

“Please,” he said, “don’t freak out.”

Alec shed his sweater when Magnus nodded. Under it he wore a thin, long-sleeved grey shirt. There was nothing out of ordinary, but Magnus’s eyes widened.

“Alec,” the warlock whispered. “Where... is your Angelic mark?” The mark was always there on Alec’s neck; but now, there wasn’t even a single trace of it left.

The Nephilim answered by lifting his shirt up. Instead finding the skin marred with the black of various runes embedded, it was clean, safe for a few scars Magnus had previously memorised well.

He didn’t have his runes anymore.

“Alec,” Magnus said in horror, feeling fear at what Alec would answer. “Alec, why are you unmarked? What _happened_?”

The blue-eyed Nephilim quickly wore his shirt and sweater back, trying to avoid eye contact with Magnus. “I already told you before not to freak out,” he said.

Magnus stood up and walked towards the young Nephilim, gripping Alec’s jaw firmly but tenderly and forced him to face the warlock. “Alec,” he pressed on. “What happened? _Why_?”

There was a slight pause.

Alec released himself from Magnus’s grip and pushed at him lightly to create a distance. “After the final war, the Clave wanted to clean up the mess,” he explained. “They held trials for the people who sided with Sebastian, and they also held trials for Downworlders who broke the Accords. The Clave should be holding trial for Camille... and you.” He quivered. “But because both of you were already dead... I was the one who stood in the stand for trial.”

Magnus’s eyes widened. “There’s no way they would do that to you... right?”

“It’s already done,” Alec said. “The Clave... accused me of treason. They thought I was helping you... Magnus... in letting Camille escape. They even accused me that even though I knew where Camille was, I was keeping secret of it,” Alec chuckled, but it sounded so hollow and bitter Magnus felt like throwing up himself. He felt horrible. “Although I never knew a single thing of it.”

“So... they...?”

Alec nodded. “My sentence was... to be banished from the Shadow world.” He looked up and stared at Magnus with blank eyes. “They stripped me off my marks as a punishment.”


End file.
